


V Is For...

by lacemaze



Category: Devil May Cry, DmC: Devil May Cry
Genre: Alternate Universe, M/M, Not Actually Unrequited Love, One Shot Collection, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Unresolved Romantic Tension, personal headcanons used
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-03-11
Updated: 2019-03-31
Packaged: 2019-11-15 17:44:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,958
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18078044
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lacemaze/pseuds/lacemaze
Summary: V watched as the man planted his hands above his head and kicked up from the ground, upright and standing again. Nero was once more, too close and staring too intently at the man in black. His breath ghosted across V’s exposed neck. V forced himself not to step back, goosebumps rising along the tattoos down his arms.A collection of oneshots, some connected, some one offs. Tags included in chapter summaries.





	1. Venture

**Author's Note:**

  * For [endlcss_possibilities](https://archiveofourown.org/users/endlcss_possibilities/gifts).



> Hello! This is my first foray into writing for this fandom. I'm playing the new game and just couldn't help adoring V and Nero. This is pretty much an AU in terms of canon. V is treated as his own character. Hope you enjoy, thank you! <3 
> 
> Thank you [endlcss_possibilities](https://archiveofourown.org/users/endlcss_possibilities/pseuds/endlcss_possibilities) for fostering my love for these two dorks! You're the best hun; thank you for always being so kind and encouraging! <3
> 
> _**Venture: a daring journey or undertaking, to risk expose**_  
>  Canon divergent AU, pre game  
> Poem used below is _Ah! Sun-flower_ by William Blake.

“You’re playing the part of a common pillager,” the brooding, leather clad man drawled, leaning on his cane to survey the scene before him.

He and Nero were roaming around the city, waiting while Nico fixed up the van. A demon party had swarmed them a while ago. It wasn’t anything he and the hunter couldn’t handle. Unfortunately, in Nero’s showboating, a monster had managed to sneak its way under the van, leaving a disgusting, viscous surprise. The van was thus made temporarily inoperable. Nico assured them it wasn’t anything she couldn’t manage, would just take time.

Nero, having gotten bored of waiting around, decided to walk around the city, see if he could find any left over demons to kill. V felt it prudent to follow, less the man stir up more trouble. He ignored Griffon’s telepathic remarks about _trailing after loverboy_. He warned the bird familiar about letting Shadow feast on him for dinner. Her purrs echoed the threat.

He let their arguing drift to the back of his conscious, knocking rubble out of his way with his cane. Having finished freeing the cash registers of their monetary contents, Nero hopped over the counter, shaking a wad of bills in V’s face as he strudded by.

“We gotta eat don’t we?”

“You’ve already ransacked the only restaurant left standing,” V replied helpfully.

Nero shrugged. “They’ll be other places for grub.”

V hummed, unsatisfied with the prospect. With their luck, they wouldn’t find a tolerable place until they were well outside the outskirts of the city. That meant there would be another of Nico’s culinary concoctions to try and keep down tonight. Some of his disappointment must have showed on his face, causing Nero to swing an arm around his shoulders, steering them towards the front of the shop.

“Chin up, Dorian Gray. I’ll buy you a fancy dinner if we get out of this gig alive.”

Instead of verbalizing a response, V lifted his cane and tried to prod the man besides him. Nero laughed, moving away and ducking out of reach.

“And how do you know of Mr. Wilde’s famed story?”

“I know things,” Nero said, tapping the side of his skull. “There’s more than just-”

What else exactly swirled in Nero’s head became lost as the demon hunter stumbled on a exposed piece of rebar and fell, crashing to the ground in front of V. The man in black turned his face into his collar to smother an amused chuckle. He planted his cane in the ground, poised like a ringmaster, staring down an unruly performer. Nero looked up at him, eyes wide in surprise. He face resembled that of someone whose offered treat was snatched away from them. This time, V didn’t hide his amusement, smirk playing on his lips.

“You were saying, oh wise one?”

“Shut up.”

V watched as the man planted his hands above his head and kicked up from the ground, upright and standing again. Nero was once more, too close and staring too intently at the man in black. His breath ghosted across V’s exposed neck. V forced himself not to step back, goosebumps rising along the tattoos down his arms.

“I’m not your typical, wise-cracking bad boy,” Nero claimed, voice dropped an octave lower. His gaze dipped down to V’s mouth and back to his eyes in such a quick glance, V wasn’t sure if he imagined it or not. “I could surprise you will all the kinds of things I know.” There was a certain lilt to his tone, a delicious promise.

“Mayhaps,” V finally breathed out.

The two men observed one another in total silence. Challenge suspended between them, almost daringly. For once, no demons making snarky comments or ones screeching to be put down. Just cool, azure blue eyes meeting green, the depths of color so troubled and dark.

Before any move could be made, a loud ringing interpreted them, tearing the two apart. V pivoted away, discreetly trying to gulp for fresh air. Nero’s warm scent still intertwined in his senses. A low string of curses came from the other man, answering his phone in an angry snap.

“What?!”

V ignored the man’s conversation with Nico, walking out of the shop to gain a measure of clarity. He pinched his nose, berating himself for rising to Nero’s bait. No good could come of this game between them. He had to fight the part of him that begged otherwise. He took off down the street, chiding the thoughts in his head. He was with Devil May Cry for a mission, not to flirt with the young demon hunter. The sharp click of his cane sounding like hammering nails in a coffin.

Another squawking treaded upon his mind once more.

_V! Hey V! Look, look over there to your left!_

V turned his gaze, wondering what had the supernatural being so agitated. He blinked in surprise. Nestled between a coffee shop and apartment building, was a scarcely standing bookstore.

_Can we have a looksies?_

He quirked his lips in a grin at the demon’s eagerness. “A marvelous idea.”

V strolled along the paved road, ignoring the bird’s instances that he speed up. The demon gave up and wisped itself off its host to soar ahead. V shook his head, but kept his teasing thoughts to himself. When he reached the shop, he stepped through the broken bay window and called out to his familiar.

“Have you found anything worthy pet?”

It was a testament to how fixated the creature was that he didn’t react to the playful moniker.

“Back here slowpoke.”

V followed the voice to the end of the shop, picking his way between brick and scattered volumes. He found the excitable eagle resting atop of a bookcase, half its shelves bare. V inspected their contents, fingers trailing along their spines like a lover’s caress. He chose an ancient anthology of poems as his first conquest.

He stepped back, trying to find a clear spot to rest. Shadow started to murmur cries of restlessness. He hummed his agreeance to let her emerge, hand out to brush between her ears when she apparated in place. He folded himself gracefully onto the floor, settling against the bookcase, long legs crossed in a meditative pose. Shadow padded in front of him before finally wedging her way behind his back and the furniture, curling around and offering herself as a makeshift pillow for him to rest against. He scratched under her chin as a thank you. Her content purrs a lullaby in the quiet shop.

He carefully cracked open the book, skipping the first few pages to reach the first poem. As he read to himself, he could hear Griffon parroting his favorite lines back to him. The demon fluttered to the floor, wading through the mess to unearth more books he wanted read to him. He amounted quiet a collection. A pang of regret went through V; he was an exceptional reader, however, even he wouldn’t be able to read them all for his friend. Griffon headbutted his knee, understanding in his yellow eyes.

Before he could move on to the next poem, Nightmare made a noise of discontent, alerting V that someone was near. V closed the book, finger between the pages to hold his place. Eventually, Nero’s voice was heard, calling for the man in black.

“ _Ah Sun-flower! weary of time/Who countest the steps of the Sun:_ ” he reiterated, letting his voice carry to the demon hunter. “ _Seeking after that sweet golden clime/Where the travellers journey is done._ ”

Nero appeared around the corner, small grin on his lips. “Hey bookworms. Should’ve known I’d find you here.”

V spared him an acknowledging glance before opening his book once more. “Has Nico finished her repairs on the vehicle?”

“No,” Nero said, crouching down to inspect the books surrounding V and the demons.

Griffon snapped his beak at the man’s prosthetic hand, not wanting his treasury of books disturbed.

“You break it, you buy it, birdbrain,” the hunter threatened.

V turned the page, dong his best to ignore the two.

“Anyways,” Nero continued, still kneeling. “Nico needs a few parts for the van. I’m gonna see what I can find and salvage. I’d offer to split up the list with ya, but something tells me you’d be more comfortable here.”

When he glanced up, V expected the man to give him a condescending smirk. Instead, the man looked bemused, something soft in his expression. It caught V by surprise. Griffon squawked a rude goodbye to Nero, only quieting down when V gave him a look of reprimand.

“I am no mechanic,” V said finally, looking at the hunter through his lashes. “It may be more proficient to scavenge alone. Unless, you’re in dire need of assistance?”

Nero chuckled, shaking his head. He stood up, fiddling with the buckles of his right arm.

“Nah, I’ll be fine on my own. Don’t have too much fun, edgelord. I’ll come get you when I’m done.”

He stood and swiveled to leave. Before he could stop himself, the man’s name slipped from V’s lips. He froze when Nero turned back, giving him a curious gaze.

“There are still Hell Caina’s hiding around the city,” he offered wearily. “Be careful.”

Nero grinned and winked. “Always am!”

V covered a laugh with a cough. “Farewell, for now.”

“Later, V.”

He watched the hunter exit, confident swagger taking him away. He cut an impressive figure.

Tired of the ogling, Griffon bit down on V’s hand, wanting the man to get back to reading. V clicked his tongue in annoyance, admonishing the demon with a glare. Griffon put his head in V’s lap, trying to give the host his best attempt at apology. V hummed, tugging on the creatures beak in forgiveness before turning back to his book. He cleared his throat and shifted to recline better.

As he began reading once more, Shadow purred, wrapping her tail around his ankle as the demon listened and rested. Even Nightmare was attentive to V’s words, making the occasional grumble when he heard a line he enjoyed. Surrounded by a nest of books and his little friends, V couldn’t stop the smile of content that crossed his lips.

* * *

 

V couldn't say for sure how many hours he’s been reading before he hears Nico’s screeching outside of the shop. The only tell that time had passed are the towers of completed books besides him. He had made a sizable dent in the collection Griffon had picked out.

Nero’s shadow appeared before he did, blocking the reader’s light. V closed the book, arching his stiff back in a stretch. Griffon was dislodged from his perch on the man’s shoulders. He took flight to spread his wings, watching the others from up above. Shadow stirred, emitting a weak growl when Nero came forth.

“Hey,” the man called.

Before V could greet him, a horn honked, annoyingly long and loud.

“Nico,” Nero cursed under his breath.

“I suppose that is one way to acknowledge the van’s operative condition.”

Nero snickered. “Yep. I tried to stall her, but she’s pretty instant.”

V sought out his cane, forcing himself to rise. Nero reached out to offer him a hand up. V appreciated the gesture and clasped the man’s wrist, letting the hunter pull him up. Shadow must have wanted to help as well; she barreled her head against V’s backside, offering an extra shove upward. The force of her push propelled V straight into Nero’s chest.

It was impossible to tell which man appeared more surprised: Nero, whose prosthetic hand had found purchase on V’s waist in hopes of steadying the man, or V, who was still attached to Nero’s wrist, other hand fisted in the man’s blue coat. Their gazes were locked on each other once more, that same tension from before returned tenfold.

“You alright there?” Nero asked, voice guttural and _too close_.

V blinked, breaking the spell between them. He forced himself to let go of Nero, stepping back to allow space between them. Nero’s hand gripped his waist possessively before letting the man go. V could hear muffled laughter coming from Griffon, Shadow’s pleased mews echoed in his head as she reverberated back onto his skin.

“I am well,” he finally answered, looking anywhere except at the hunter.

“Good.”

Another honking, even more shrill and droned out than the previous one.

Nero cursed. “We should get going.”

“Understood,” V intoned. He stepped around Nero, holding out his arm to beckon Griffon along.

“Wait,” Nero called.

V looked over his shoulder. He found the man, kneeling down, picking at the leftover books.

“If you want, you could probably pick out a few to take with us, hide them somewhere in the van?”

Once again, V was caught off guard by Nero’s consideration. He hadn’t had the chance to thank the man for leaving him behind to read earlier. He bade himself to do so now.

“Thank you, Nero,” he said with earnest. “That would be most agreeable.”

Nero grinned, V returned it with one of his own.

Griffon soared down, selecting the biggest books to deposit into Nero’s hands. Once the man had more than enough to carry, V called for the bird to return to ink. Griffon did so, but not before ruffling Nero’s hair with his talons; his own way of saying thanks. Nero complained about the bird ruining his style, smiling too wide to be a serious complaint.

As the pair finally made their way towards the front of the shop, something caught the hunter’s attention. Nero placed the books on the counter. V thought he meant to ransack the register. Instead of going for the cash drawer, Nero reached out for another book. V eyed him with curiosity, watching in confusion as the man flipped towards the end of the book, ripped out a handful of pages and tossed the rest of the ruined tome over his shoulder.

“Something pique your interest?” V couldn’t help but ask.

Nero flashed him another cheeky grin before pocketing the pages away from inspection. He grabbed V’s books and lead the way out. V kept his musings to himself.

After some ribbing from Nico, the three were back on the road, heading to the next town. V stayed at the back of the van, stowing away the books in a safe place Nero pointed out for him. Soon, the very man joined him, sitting across the way and watching V for a few moments, before turning away again. It was quiet for some time, which only meant Nero felt the need to break it.

“Valter, German, means army ruler,” Nero read aloud, pages in his hand. He looked over to V. “Kinda works, though three demons don’t quite make for an army. Even if they are a little badass,” he added, shuffling to another page. “Vesper, evening star, it’s Latin and wrong for you.”

“ _What_ ,” V finally gave up and asked. “Are you doing?”

“They’re names,” Nero said, showing the pages, and jabbing a metal finger at them. “Gonna guess what ‘V’ stands for.”

V was at a loss for words. He watched Nero stretch out to lay out on the bench seat, focused intently on the pages he held in front of his face.

“Vlad, Russian, means to rule. Sounds like a vampire,” Nero read, pausing to let his eyes roam across V's frame. “That could work for you.”

This kind of teasing was more familiar to V. “ _Why_ are you doing this?” he tried again.

“Trying to figure you out.”

The man in black rolled his eyes. “There is nothing to ‘figure out’. I am of no consequence.‘V’ is the name I’ve given you, accept that and move on.”

“No, I don’t think so,” Nero challenged. He sat up to lay the other way. Head much closer to V, watching him closely. His eyes were lit in mirth. “I think there’s plenty to find out about you. And I’d like to be the one that does.”

V hoped the flush that came over him was from Nico turning the heater on.

“Why?”

“Told you, you’re an interesting guy V.”

“And what if you don’t like what you find,” he rued in a whisper.

“Doubt that,” the demon hunter whispered back. “So far, I like what I see.”

V knew he was blushing this time. His only comfort was that Nero's cheeks were just as red. What a curious thing to behold. V hoped he would get to witness more of this lovely phenomenon.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Updates will be in no real order, but playing on the theme of v words that I find and like. They'll be different lengths and possibly more AU-ish. We'll see I suppose! I've finished the game, but am blissfully ignoring game canon. <3
> 
> Find me lurking on [Tumblr](http://lace-maze.tumblr.com/)


	2. Vervain

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _ Nero felt his cheeks flush, blamed it on the hot stove. He tried to remember each step V took to make his tea. V had a quiet way about going about it, had the timing down to each, perfectly measured second. The small, satisfied hum he let out when he was done would pull Nero’s wandering eyes to his quirked lips. _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  _ **Vervain: a tea useful in treating headaches/migraines**_  
>  Canon Divergent AU, pre game  
> Poem used below is _I loved you first: but afterwards your love_ by Christina Rossetti

Griffon was speaking. If anyone were to ask V just what exactly the bird familiar was waxing on about, he wouldn't be able to say. Griffon usually kept up a tirade of advice and epiphanies to anyone who happened to be nearby. His penchant for ridicule was highly amusing, especially when it wasn’t directed at V himself. Normally Griffon’s chatter was agreeable to V, he appreciated the wit and knowledge the centuries old demon loved to spew. They were verbal sparring partners, fierce adversaries since he was a boy. Today though, Griffon’s words were attacking his skull with such a wretched pounding, V sat hunched over, clutching his head.

“Griffon,” he uttered through his teeth. The room was spinning, it was hard to keep his eyes focused on anything longer than seconds. V tried to stay in place, hoping the far corner of the van would be a safe haven. Even closing his eyelids hurt.

“What’s up with you grouch?” Griffon said, from his perch on the jukebox. “Don’t feel like debating playwrights today?”

The demon’s voice thundered around him. Nightmare growled loud, getting upset by the crowding sounds echoing in V’s head. He could hear Shadow’s low murmurs trying to calm the beast.

“Griff-Griffon,” he pleaded. “Silence.”

The demonic being finally realized the state of his host. V felt feathers brush his forehead and he flinched back. A mistake; the bile in his stomach raised and he swallowed it down, groaning out in pain and disgust. He squeezed his eyes tightly shut, his stubborn pride not allowing the tears to fall.

_V, buddy. What’s wrong?_ His tone was quieter now, another voice in his head.

“Headache,” he bit out.

He could hear him muttering to Shadow. Their words volleyed back and forth, building more pressure behind his brows.

_He needs help you yapping idiot._

_What are they gonna do? He just needs to sleep it off._

_This is worse than usual and you know it. Go get the others. Get Nero._

V shook his head, he regretted it when the motion brought a fresh wave of nausea. He took in a large gulp of air, forcing deep breaths to steady him once more.

_I’m fine, just, please: quiet. It will pass._

_You are NOT well. Griffon, go! Get Nero, now!_

V let out a helpless whine as they continued to bicker. It was useless to protest. He couldn’t think much past the pain.

_I’m going, I’m going!_

A gust of wind and the concerned bird was gone. V slouched against the wall of the van, cool metal pressing against his forehead. He willed the pain to go away. He wouldn’t be of any use like this. He was no stranger to headaches, but this was another beast entirely. He cursed his weak, broken body.

_Be strong, little one_ , came Shadow’s plea, a soothing whisper.

V tried to brave a smile. _Thank you my sweet_.

The anxious sounds of Shadow and Nightmare receded to the back of his mind. Now that most of the noises were gone, V was able to crumble in peace. He slowly slumped to the floor, huddling into a ball. He just needed to rest, a bit of sleep and he would be alright once more.

* * *

One second, Nero was busy buying supplies with Nico, the next: all the oranges he had been juggling fell from his hands as he was lifted into the sky. A few of the other shoppers in the open market gaped and pointed up at him.

“What the-” Came Nico’s voice, staring as Nero suddenly started flying away. The cigarette fell from her mouth as she shouted. “What the hell do you think-”

“Sorry sister, V needs help and I don’t have time to chit chat.”

Nico grew smaller as Griffon rose higher. Nero tried to free his arms, feeling the bird’s talons digging into his shoulders. There’d be holes in his jacket, he just knew it.

“I can walk!” Nero cried out. He stopped moving, finally paying attention to the demon’s words. He realized now how lucky he’d been that his jostling hadn’t caused the blue chicken to drop him. “Wait-what’s wrong with V?”

“His head feels like it’s gonna split. We don’t know what to do. Hang on, try not to squirm too much. You’re fucking heavy.”

Nero let the slight go. Worry and fear bubbled in his stomach. When they woke up that morning, V had mentioned not feeling up to going shopping with Nico and Nero. The pair decided to leave him behind, knew his leg hurt too much to walk sometimes. Shit. He should have stayed behind to make sure V was ok. Nero cursed at himself silently.

Thankfully, it was a short flight back to the van. When they got close, Griffon gave him a heads up that he’d be dropping him. He swung Nero and the hunter managed to roll into a crouch, landing easily.

Griffon flew in front of his face. “Make sure you’re quiet, noises bother him.”

“Tell me to be quiet? You’re the biggest loudmouth here!.”

“Cork it, brat. This isn’t a joke.”

Nero could tell the fiend was genuinely concerned, he hopped from one foot to the other, trying to perch on top of the van. Nero nodded and unhooked Red Queen and Blue Rose, opening the driver’s door as silently as possible. He placed the weapons on his seat, looking around for V. On first glance, the van was empty, no brooding summoner wasting away on the couch. He almost turned to yell at Griffon, thinking the damned demon was trying to pull one over his head. Then he saw it, huddled in the darkest far corner, a small black mass.

Griffon crawled between Nero’s legs, waddling over to his owner.

“Hey kiddo, I got help,” he said in a soft whisper. “You gotta get better now, ok?”

V made a pitiful sound in reply. Nero carefully walked over, crouching down besides the man’s sad form. Now that he could see him closer, V looked worse than he imagined. He looked helpless, long frame curled into a fetal position, pink lips twisted in pain. He gently brushed the hair away from the man’s face, trying to get a better look at him. V made a noise of protest. Nero drew his hand back, staring at the man in genuine concern. He tried to think about what he could do to help.

First thing he wanted to do was get the man off the floor. Nero moved away to clear off the junk on the couch, unfolding it into a small bed. The trio were accustomed to sleeping in the van. Usually Nico took the bed, while Nero and V each took a front seat. (He’d slept in worse places.) He often drifted off listening to V read aloud, despite how hard he tried to stay up and pay attention. Would often dream in bits and pieces of whatever scenes the scholar recited.

He could feel Griffon’s eyes watching him as he dug around for some sheets that were ash and grease free. He ended up just yanking out his own things, tossing the pillows and blankets haphazardly. He ignored the overgrown pigeon and went back to the black mass, crouching down behind him and speaking low.

“I’m gonna pick you up, you can’t be comfy here on the floor.”

There was no sign that V had heard him. He carefully maneuvered his arms under the man, slowly scooping him into a bridal carry. V whimpered, wildly reaching out to orient himself. He clutched Nero’s jacket like a lifeline. Nero was startled at just how light the man felt in his arms. He had hauled sacks of soil for the church garden that felt heavier than the summoner. He tried not to jostle the man as he walked back to the bed, lowering him down as gently as possible.

When Nero moved to step back, V still clung to him.

“V,” he whispered. He touched the man’s hands, brushing his thumb against his knuckles in what he hoped felt soothing. “You gotta let go so you can lay down, alright? You’ll feel better.”

Eventually, V relaxed his death grip and let go, curling into himself once more. Small groans of pain falling from V’s lips as he rubbed his eyes. Nero was reminded of the orphans he’d watch over with Kyrie, staying up late to keep guard over the little ones. Nero cooed softly, covering V with the blanket. He felt helpless just staring at him, hating that he couldn’t just beat up whatever was bothering the man.  

He pushed his self-loathing aside, trying to think what else he could do. Alright, step two, step two...now what?

Griffon chose that moment to remind Nero that he was there. He flew over to V’s side, pulling the blanket closer to cover more of him. He landed beside the man’s pillow, tucked his wings in and resting his head near V’s to keep a close eye on him. Like a mother hen.

Nero closed his eyes, imagining what it must have felt like having a mother to take care of him when he felt sick. Someone to sit with him, make sure his fevers weren’t burning too high, feed him homemade soup. He shook his head; no use going down that sad route. A cold cloth and some tea though, that might be a good idea.

He found the cleanest rag he could, ran it under cold water and stuck it in the freezer. He kept glancing over to V, could only watch pathetically as the man twitched in pain, pinching his skull hard enough to bruise. Once Nero thought the towel was cold enough, he brought it over to lay on V’s forehead, holding it in place. Slowly, the man in black relaxed, moved a hand on top of Nero’s to shift the cool cloth lower. V kept his hand there, gripping Nero’s loosely.

If felt awkward to remain standing, crouched over the frail man, so Nero carefully sat down, ignoring Griffon’s suspicious stare. He took the chance to observe the man up close. There was no other way to describe V other than gorgeous. Too pretty, too otherworldly, too captivating. Nero’s fingers itched to trace along the tattoos that lined the man’s neck, brush a thumb against his perfectly pouty lips. He longed for paper and pencil, to sketch V’s features and try to put to paper just a fraction of that beauty that he craved to hold.

Nero was so distracted in drowning in his one-sided desires that it took him some time to realize that V’s hand had slackened. His level breathing signaling that the man had fallen asleep. Nero let out a relieved sigh. Hopefully with some rest, the headache would fade in intensity. He forced himself to move his hand away, his hands curled into fists to resist reaching out.

Suddenly, Griffon looked around, staring at the back of the van, something outside catching his attention. Cautiously, Nero moved from his perch on the bed, Blue Rose in hand. He stuck his head out the driver’s window to look around. He heard Nico’s whistling before he spotted her, her death glare staring him down as she lugged bags of supplies. A wave of guilt washed over him for being forced to leave her behind.

“No no, that’s fine, cher,” she barked at him. “Stay in the van while Nico does all the hard fucking work.”

He shushed her as she got closer. She looked ready to strangle him in retaliation. He took the bags she passed at him, counted it a small miracle she didn’t throw them at his face.

“Where’s sick boy? You know what’s wrong with him?”

“He’s asleep,” Nero replied, glancing over his shoulder at the other man. “Some kind of shitty headache.”

Nico kicked the front tire. “It’s all that reading and secrets he keeps. Ain't doin’ no one any good,” she mused, patting her pockets for her cigarettes.

Nero was already pulling out the extra lighter he carried. “We can’t all be mech geniuses.”

“Aww,” Nico drawled, puffing a ring of smoke at the hunter’s face. Nero coughed and scowled. “That was almost sweet. Whaddya want?”

They knew each other too well. He pulled out a small stack of bills. “There’s a bar not that far down the road. Probably some tables and cards,” Nero offered with a shrug. “Feel like checking it out?”

Nico grinned as she took the cash. “They say there’s a sucker born every minute.”

Nero smirked. “Easy money.”

“Alright,” the weapons expert drawled. “You take care of Sleeping Beauty. I’m gonna make some new friends.”

“Try not to get thrown out this time.”

“A cheat’s a cheat. I call ‘em as I see ‘em.” He deadpanned at her. “Hey, at least I’m not dumb enough to get caught!”

Nero snorted. They high fived each other in their usual custom and he watched her walk off. He knew Nico could take care of herself. She had a few weapons on her at all times. She may not be a good shot, but they sure packed a punch.

He went back to V, exchanging the towel for a colder one. Griffon went back to ignoring him. Nero was ok with that, could just tolerate the demon on a good day. He put the supplies away, grinning at some of the snacks Nico picked out. These cookies wouldn’t last the day, he promised himself.

Once that was sorted, Nero brought his weapons to the table to clean. Keeping his silent watch over the stricken man. It was strange to see V so incapacitated. Even during the heat of battle, when most of his strength was gone, V never stopped fighting or calling out weak spots for Nero to aim for. They made a good team. Nero would stick close to V’s side, protecting the summoner from enemies while the familiars pinned the others down. He would do a quick sweep, take those out and return to V, standing back-to-back. Quips passing between them just as often as warnings on what to look out for. Nightmare was a power house, stomping and bashing foes left and right. Griffon was their vantage point, able to spot anything else coming for them. Shadow would attack in a wide circle around them, giving them a safe perimeter. It had taken time, but Nero trusted them just as much as the man they were bound to. Together, they always won.

It felt like a couple hours had passed before V started to stir. Between swapping the cool cloth for colder ones, Nero had occupied his time with reading one of V’s books. He didn’t understand much, but he enjoyed browsing through the pages. Some lines caught his interest. He couldn’t help imaging how they might have sounded if V was reading them aloud to him.

Nero’s stomach growled and he figured now would be a good time to eat and make that tea. He turned to the kitchen area, looking around for the familiar mug and kettle V used every morning. He winced every time his prosthetic smacked against a surface; the metallic ringing echoing louder in mockery of the quiet he tried to maintain. As the water boiled, he reached for the tin of tea leaves, shaking it slightly to catch a whiff of the floral scent. Nero closed his eyes, smiling softly to himself. It almost smelled like V, just missing the musky notes of old books and something sweet and dark, unique to the man himself.

Nero felt his cheeks flush, blamed it on the hot stove. He tried to remember each step V took to make his tea. V had a quiet way about going about it, had the timing down to each, perfectly measured second. The small, satisfied hum he let out when he was done would pull Nero’s wandering eyes to his quirked lips. Left transfixed as he watched the summoner lean against the jukebox, cradling the chipped mug between inked, slender fingers. Every morning, without fail, V would meet Nero’s glance as he blew on the steam; sometimes speaking to offer to make him a cup as well. Nero always forced himself to turn away, hoping his face didn’t betray how warm that gaze made him feel. One day, he’d take the man up on his offer.

* * *

Warmth, all around him; warmth, darkness, and a familiar scent. Those were V’s first thoughts when he slowly blinked awake. His eyes felt heavy, and wet. He reached up to touch his still tender forehead, feeling a damp towel covering the top half of his face.

_Hey, you’re awake._

V felt a gentle nip on his fingers, Griffon’s voice whisper low in his skull.

_I don’t recall falling asleep._ V shifted, feeling soft padding beneath him instead of the rough carpeted floor of the van he _had_ been sitting on. The ink on his skin tingled as he felt Shadow and Nightmare stir to consciousness, they made happy noises of relief.

_How are you feeling?_ Shadow asked quietly.

He removed the towel and brushed his wet hair back. He massaged his temples, trying to encourage blood flow to relieve the lingering tension in his skull. _Marginally better. I slept so soundly, I didn’t even feel Nightmare move me._

_That’s because he didn’t,_ Griffon squawked. _That was all Romeo._

Before V could repremand the creature for the teasing, he suddenly realized why the scent surrounding him in such a comforting embrace felt so familiar: it was Nero. As if able to read his thoughts too, (V internally shuddered at the idea), the very hunter appeared, crouching besides the bed.

“Hey you,” he said softly.

“Greet-” V’s throat was so dry he had a small coughing fit. He tried to sit up, Nero helped steady him. “Hey,” he eventually replied lamely.

Nero’s expression was soft under the visible concern. He sat beside V on the bed. “How’s the head?”

“Wretched still, but no longer feels like it’s going to crack open,” he answered. He blamed it on his weakened state for sagging against Nero’s supportive frame. “How did you know something was amiss?”

The hunter grinned. “A little birdy told me.”

Griffon screeched an indignant “Little?!”

V shushed him, stretching a hand out to pat the creature’s head. Griffon grumbled to himself. The summoner turned his attention back to the hunter, wincing when the pain flared up again.

Nero must have noticed. “I made tea. Do you want some?”

“You made tea,” V repeated, unsure if he heard correctly or was still asleep and dreaming.

“Well, I tried to anyways,” Nero amended with a chuckle, rubbing the back of his neck.

“Let’s see how you fared,” V said, unable to hide an amused grin.

He shifted away from Nero, moving to sit up properly. He felt Nero take his hand, he looked at the man with guarded curiosity. It took him a moment to understand that Nero was reaching out for the cloth still in V’s grip. Oh. Something like disappointment left in his empty hand.

“There’s another one in the freezer if you need it.”

“Not just now.”

Nero offered up another smile before returning to the kitchenette. V pulled the blanket over his lap, fingering the tattered edges. Once again, he was struck by how benevolent Nero could be; he wasn’t used to such kindness. Griffon perched behind him, peering through a curtain of V’s hair to join in on watching the young hero.

_Guess he isn’t_ completely _useless_ , Griffon thought aloud.

V tugged on the closest feather he could reach, grateful at least that the familiar kept his opinions internal.

_The only thing useless around here is your constant gabbering_ , Shadow interjected. Griffon balked, stuttering a weak defense back at the unamused feline. Nightmare garbled a bubbly sound, V smiled with him. He let their antics recede to the back of his mind when Nero came back.

“There you go,” he said, holding out the steaming mug carefully.

“Thank you,” V replied, smiling still and purposely letting his hands linger on Nero’s as he cradled the cup.

Nero ducked his head, but not before V spotted the grin and pink cheeks that accompanied it. “No problem.”

V blew on the steam, eyes drifting over the hunter as he took his seat back at the table. He raised a brow at the book resting near the man’s elbow. “Have I converted you into a scholar?”

“You wish,” the hunter retorted. “You left it out and I was curious.”

“Did you find anything you like?” V took a drink.

“Maybe,” Nero offered, eyes cutting back to V.

V blamed the large gulp of tea on his dry throat. Nero kept staring at him, apprehension on features.

“How’d I do?”

V thought over his words carefully; he wasn’t one for lying. Even the scant half-truths he offered when asked a direct question never betrayed any falsehoods.

“I’m touched by the sweet gesture, thank you Nero.”

The smile that stretched across Nero’s face made the bitter tea taste sweet.

Griffon’s loud cackle broke the serenity. “That means you done fucked up, genius.”

“Griffon,” V warned.

“You’d think with how much he watches you, he’d know how you liked-”

“Shut it before I turn you into turkey dinner,” Nero threatened, Devil Breaker lighting up.

“Return. _Now_ ,” V ordered. He kneaded his forehead; the pain was flaring up again.

Griffon cursed as he reverted back to ink. V could hear Shadow growl at the talkative demon. She would be cross enough for the both of them.

There was an awkward silence left between them. Neither man looked at one another.

V sighed, taking another drink.

“You don’t have to finish that,” Nero whispered low.

“I want to,” V assured him.

Nero shrugged.

“Perhaps,” V began, trying to catch the hunter’s gaze. “Next time, I can return the gesture. It would be my pleasure.”

A smaller smile, but a smile nonetheless. “Sure.”

V hid his own behind the mug as he drained the last of the drink. Nero took it from him, drumming his fingers against his thigh. Before he sat down, V turned his attention to the book once more.

“Will you read to me?”

Nero froze. “Wha-why?”

“I seem to remain ill,” V said, coughing purposely.

The hunter eyed him with trepidation. “I thought you had a headache?”

“Always,” V countered. “If you believe Griffon’s annoying now, you should try living with him.”

“No thanks,” Nero said with a chuckle. He grabbed the book and rejoined V on the couch.

_What is this, pick on the bird day?_ Griffon pouted.

V rolled his eyes. _Rest. Thank you for your care today_ , he told his friends. They murmured quiet assurances back at him.

V shifted over to let give Nero more room beside him. He turned his head to and fro, trying to find another way to relieve the pain.

“Here,” Nero ordered softly. He switched to stretch out the other way. “Lay down,” he patted his stomach. V eyed him curiously. “Just trust me.”

After a moment of hesitation, V accepted the offer. They were perpendicular to each other now, with V resting his head so that he could look up at Nero. The hunter rested his free hand on V’s hair, brushing the strands. Before V could question just what he was doing, Nero’s hand drifted lower, to the base of his skull, massaging gently. V’s eyes fluttered close, the man’s skilled fingers working out the knots of tension.

“Better?”

V’s only response was a hum of satisfaction. He quietly bade the man not to stop. Nero murmured his agreeance. V heard the familiar sound of pages being turned. Eventually, Nero’s gravely voice filled the air. As he listened to other man, V reflected back on how the abysmally the morning had started. Thankfully, it had taken a turn for the better. Now, he was content and warm; slowly felt the pull of sleep once more. He fought it as long as possible, entranced by the words, and the narrator beneath him.

“ _I loved and guessed at you, you construed me..._ "

 

I loved you first: but afterwards your love

 

        Poca favilla gran fiamma seconda. – Dante

       Ogni altra cosa, ogni pensier va fore,

       E sol ivi con voi rimansi amore. – Petrarca

 

I loved you first: but afterwards your love

Outsoaring mine, sang such a loftier song

As drowned the friendly cooings of my dove.

Which owes the other most? my love was long,

And yours one moment seemed to wax more strong;

I loved and guessed at you, you construed me

And loved me for what might or might not be –

Nay, weights and measures do us both a wrong.

For verily love knows not ‘mine’ or ‘thine;’

With separate ‘I’ and ‘thou’ free love has done,

For one is both and both are one in love:

Rich love knows nought of ‘thine that is not mine;’

Both have the strength and both the length thereof,

Both of us, of the love which makes us one.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Updates will be in no real order, but playing on the theme of words beginning with V that I find and like. They'll be different lengths and possibly more AU-ish. We'll see I suppose! I've finished the game, but am blissfully ignoring game canon. I hope you've enjoyed! Thank you! <3
> 
> Find me lurking on [Tumblr](http://lace-maze.tumblr.com/)


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